Yo

This one's quotable - it comes from the front of my sister Erin's refrigerator:

Family: a field to grow in.  Children grow up, and parents grow patient.

I've thought a lot about that quote lately.  The last six days have been long ones, Marie, Leah, Nathan, and now Willem all succumbing to influenza: high, sudden fevers, headaches, sore throats and coughs.  In this house, for the first three, that means reactive airways trouble, too - wheezing, grunting and panting for air.  There's been bawling, whining, vomit spewed across the rug, and night after night of medicating, steam-tenting, rocking, comforting, running for water, hankies, hugs.  I tell you, this mama'd about had it.  I started feeling like my name was a chant these four little bodies took up simply because they were feeling lousy and didn't know what else to do about it.

Family: a field to grow in.  Children grow sick, and mama grows patient.

So last night, Sunday, I'm cleaning up the kid's special pancake plates (we don't miss a Sunday, even for the influenza) when Leah whimpers again from the couch, "Mom."

"Yo!" I beller back.

Silence from the sofa.


Will, who's helping with the dishes, turns to me with furrows in his forehead.

"Yo?" he queries.  "What language is that?"